Be Careful with Your Clothes!
by Loveedith
Summary: A little about Bertie's childhood and a little about his wedding night.
1. Happiness

"How do I open this?" Bertie asked Edith. Then - before she had time to answer - he kissed her.

They were at last alone together in their wedding suite. They were kissing and fondling each other while getting more and more heated.

After a while Bertie longed to touch Edith's skin, to fondle and kiss those parts of her that he had never seen. But he didn't know how to get her clothes off. He couldn't see any buttons anywhere on Edith's dress.

He was fumbling around over Edith's body, hoping to find some way to unbutton the dress. At first it was really nice, touching her and making her moan against his mouth, but hearing that only got him more keen to get her dress off.

He was anxious not to damage her dress when taking it off, though. He was sure Edith would never forgive him if he did that. So he had better ask.

...

Bertie Pelham was a rich man now, but he hadn't always been.

He knew how expensive Edith's dresses must be. In fact, when he started courting her, her many lovely dresses were a worry as well as a delight to him. He loved her dresses, but he also knew he would never be able to keep her with clothes like that on his salary as a land agent.

Not if they wanted to eat. Or perhaps not even if they didn't.

But she had her magazine also, and he hoped she would want to keep it. But he really understood why she hesitated to accept his proposal. He really didn't have much to offer. Except love.

Nothing except loads and loads of love.

...

You don't take things for granted when you grow up in poor family. You learn to be careful with things. You know that if you break them you will often not afford to buy any new ones.

Bertie didn't know how many times he had heard his mother say those words: "Be careful with your clothes!"

When he was a little boy, he seldom was. He could often hear his mother sighing over a new hole or rift in his jacket or trousers. When he grew older he tried to be a little more careful. Because by then he had started to understand what his damaged clothes cost his mother in work and his father in money.

...

Bertie's family hadn't exactly been poor, it only felt like that when he compared their simple home to the treasures at Brancaster where his cousin Peter lived. And Bertie's mother, or their kitchen maid, had to patch his trousers if he had played too carelessly in them. His trousers usually had a patch on each knee and one on the back before they were considered too worn out to use.

That was something Peter's mother never had to do. If Peter's trouser were torn or worn he simply got a new pair. Or used another of the many pairs he already had.

Bertie loved Brancaster, but he wasn't envious of Peter. Because Bertie lived in a real family, and although both his father and his mother were rather strict they were always there for him when he needed them. Peter only saw his mother for an hour after tea and his father even more seldom. The rest of the time he had to make do with nannies, who never stayed for long. Then, at an early age, Peter was sent off to school, while Bertie was allowed to stay at home and go to school in the village with the other local children and sleep in his own bed every night.

When Bertie was five he had gone to visit Peter one morning only to see the eleven-year-old Peter being driven away to school for a new term. Peter was alone in the car with Brancaster's driver. There were tears in Peter's eyes, although he tried to look brave and smile as he waved goodbye to his little cousin.

Peter hated school. His was bullied by his classmates because he was small and delicate and because he was worthless in cricket and other sports. Peter couldn't catch a ball if his life depended on it.

Peter could paint, but that didn't amount to anything at school. Bertie admired him though. Peter could paint pictures of Brancaster or portraits of people that looked just like photographs.

...

At Bertie's school all the children had patches on their clothes, but none of their parents had servants. Some of them even were servants themselves. Most of them lived in cottages that were much smaller than Bertie's home.

Bertie realised that his own family was actually comparatively rich.

...

Now it was his wedding night, and he had become a Marquess and wasn't only comparatively rich but extremely rich. But he could still hear his mother's words ringing in his head: "Be careful with your clothes!"

So he had better be careful with Edith's clothes too. He broke their kiss and then he tilted his head and smiled lovingly at her.

"It's a nice dress but I'm rather eager to get it off", he said. "How do I do that?"

That earned him a big happy smile from his lovely new bride. She was eager too, he could see. And feel.

"It's easy!" she said. "It is just these three buttons on each shoulder, and then the zipper at the waist."

"Oh, yes, there they are! I wonder why I didn't see them."

And with trembling hands Herbert Pelham, the seventh Marquess of Hexham, generally known as Bertie, slowly started to undress his wife for the very first time.

* * *

AN: Thank you for reading! Please leave a comment!

...

I felt that I just had to write this story.

...

Please don't tell me Edith's honeymoon-dress wasn't buttoned like that! I know. This is just a story.


	2. Tenderness

It was Edith and Bertie's wedding night, and they were now alone in their hotel suite.

After some kissing and caressing Edith's new husband had started to take off her dress. The way he did it, the way he touched her, was so gently. Edith was almost exploding from happiness as she felt Bertie's hands upon her body.

Then he paused. She looked up at him, wondering what was wrong. But nothing seemed to be. He was just looking around the room, holding her dress in his hands. Then he folded it together and put it down on a chair.

Edith looked at him, marvelling about him. He was a remarkable man, wasn't he.

Right now he looked so happy and carefree. But there is a difference between being carefree and careless. Edith was overwhelmed by the careful way he treated her dress. There seemed to be so much tenderness in his hands, big and manly as they were.

She could imagine him holding a newborn baby. She hoped she would be able to give him at least one of those. Before _game was over,_ as he had called it. She already knew how good and tender he was with Marigold.

I am making him happy, she thought. He loves me. He loves me the way I am. He thinks I am worthy of his love.

It was all so wonderful.

...

After he had put the dress away Bertie turned around and looked at Edith. "God, you are beautiful", he mumbled.

Edith was standing there in her underwear, but she wasn't the slightest bit embarrassed. She was only happy to be there with him. Happy about what was happening now and happy about what was about to happen.

"I'm glad you think so", she said. After all those years of thinking herself ugly she now managed to believe him. She was beautiful for him, loving him made her beautiful. Being happy made her beautiful.

She smiled at him, he was really the most wonderful man on earth.

...

Bertie gave Edith a mischievous smile.

"So, where were we?" he asked. That made her smile even broader.

She went up to him and put her arms around him and her lips against his. Then she opened her mouth against his, inviting him in.

Their kiss was long and deep. Bertie caressed her naked skin during the kiss, making them both more and more aroused.

"I think we were about to take _your_ clothes off", Edith answered when the kiss was over. Her voice was suddenly husky.

Then she started to unbutton Bertie's shirt.

* * *

AN: Thank you for reading! Thank you for the lovely reviews to last chapter! Please leave a comment!

...

I sometimes wonder why people mark my completed stories _Follow._ But perhaps I shouldn't wonder. This is not the first time I write an extra chapter to a story that I thought was already finished.

...

In this story they make love for the first time on their wedding night, in my story _A Better Man_ they do it two weeks earlier or so in London. That is the nice thing about fanfiction, I can do as I please. I have no problems with writing different versions. It would be very boring if every story was the same.

...

I was the first one to write an Edith/Bertie story here. Right now it feels like I am also the last one. I do hope I'm wrong.


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